


the depths of me real

by Prevalent_Masters



Series: Bathing through the ages [4]
Category: The Old Guard (Comics), The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: 900 year anniversary!, Aftercare, BDSM, Bathing/Washing, Bondage, Good for them, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Shibari, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:54:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29726526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prevalent_Masters/pseuds/Prevalent_Masters
Summary: Nicky looks unbelievable, he looks unspeakable, depraved and angelic all at once. For the millionth time, Joe wonders at the fact that he is his, forever. That he has had this for nine hundred years and will have it for nine hundred more and beyond.Or, another night in Malta.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Bathing through the ages [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2168556
Comments: 35
Kudos: 145
Collections: D/s JoeNicky Event





	the depths of me real

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pherryt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherryt/gifts).



> And at last we come to (maybe) the end of my inspiration for [pherryt's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherryt) prompt--shibari and soft bathing/washing! It's Nicky's turn to get tied up this time, so if you're not into that now's the time to hit the back button. This turned into less porn and more soft aftercare than originally planned, but I think that's very Them still.
> 
> Title from The Irrepressibles' "Two Men In Love".
> 
> Thanks to [beans_on_toast](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beans_on_toast/pseuds/beans_on_toast/works) for the beta and the encouragement!

**Malta**

**1999**

Nicky is beautiful always, in every moment of every day of the nine hundred years Joe has been lucky enough to know him. Right now, though, Joe thinks he might have reached his peak. 

Nicky stands balanced on the ball of one foot, his other leg hitched up. His hands are trapped behind his back and tied to the harness that frames his chest and hips, forcing him to arch his back a bit, to adjust his weight minutely, the strain evident. His head is bowed as he breathes evenly through the rope gag in his mouth.

He’s covered in a thin sheen of sweat, drool sliding down his chin to his chest, the remains of three of his own orgasms and one of Joe’s spattered over his body. And he is beautiful. 

Joe runs a hand down the plane of his chest, leaving goosebumps in his wake. “Are you finished?” he asks, and Nicky’s eyes flutter shut as he shudders a sigh, breath hitching out of its controlled pattern. He has not snapped his fingers the way Joe told him to if it became too much. He is loose and pliant despite the stress of the position, floating in a way he only reaches in these ropes.

“Hmmm,” Joe says, and dips his hand lower, tracing through the mess of come on Nicky’s abdomen, and lower to his soft, spent cock. Nicky twitches when he runs the pad of a single finger down the length. “Perhaps not? It is up to you, Nicolò.” He runs the finger back to the pucker of Nicky’s entrance, presses in the slightest bit. Nicky’s head falls back as he groans and he shakes his head.

“You never fail to awe me, my love,” he murmurs in his ear before pulling back. “But we’re going to take a quick break. Clean you up a little, how does that sound?”

Nicky groans again and rolls his head to look Joe in the eyes. Joe smiles at him and reaches to pull the gag out of his mouth, settling it down around his neck. Nicky lets out a sigh of relief and licks his lips and Joe smiles at him. “No talking,” he reminds him, and cups his jaw, digging the tips of his fingers in to massage the stiffness out, enjoying the red rope marks at the corners of his mouth as they fade to nothing. He brings a water bottle to Nicky’s lips. “Drink.”

Nicky does, eyes fluttering shut again. It’s an awkward angle, and some of it spills from the sides of his mouth and trails down his chin and neck. Joe follows the droplets and his half-hard cock stirs again. He pulls the water away and leans in to lick them up, a long line from his collarbone up his neck, and sucks a brief, bruising kiss on Nicky’s jaw. He arches his head back and groans, and Joe muffles the noise with his mouth, slipping his tongue between Nicky’s lips and licking into him until he’s moaning again, kissing back with increasing desperation. Joe pulls away, fists a hand in Nicky’s hair, and yanks his head back, dipping in to lick his throat again, running his tongue over his adam’s apple, tasting salty sweat.

“Mmm, you’re tempting me, my love. I told you we were going to take a break.”

Nicky opens his mouth like he’s going to answer, but shuts it quickly, remembering himself. Joe smiles. “Good boy,” he says softly, and Nicky closes his eyes and shudders. He’s half hard again too, though he looks exhausted. Joe circles him, wrapping his arms around him from behind, pinching his hard nipples and just brushing his cock. He grinds his own erection into Nicky’s ass and Nicky arches back into him, biting his lip, eyelashes fluttering. Joe has never seen anything quite so beautiful.

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs Nicky’s ear, tapping his dick lightly. “I’ll come back to that later.” he reaches up and with one deft tug unravels the rope holding Nicky’s leg up. Nicky gasps and tenses, but Joe holds him around the chest, supporting his weight, and rubs at his hip, helping him lower the leg slowly. He’s still straining up, standing on the balls of his feet, and Joe loosens the ropes suspending him from the chest harness as well until both feet are firmly on the ground. His knees buckle and he sways back into Joe, but Joe catches him—he always will—and gently guides him to his knees.

Nicky settles gracefully, given how stiff his legs must be, and tilts his head up to look at Joe through hazy eyes. Joe rests a hand on his head briefly, running his fingers through sweaty hair. “Does anything hurt more than it should?” he asks softly. “Just nod or shake your head.”

Nicky shakes his head and offers a hazy smile. Joe smiles back and brings the water bottle back to his lips. He drinks deeply and then draws away, resting his head lightly on Joe’s thigh. He allows himself a moment to run his fingers up and down Nicky’s neck, rubbing at the stiff muscles, before stepping in front of him again.

“I want you to take care of this,” he says, gesturing at his own hard dick, and Nicky straightens, licking his lips. Joe has kept him bound and gagged all evening, forced to take all of Joe’s careful ministrations and teasing with no reciprocation. He knows it drives Nicky wild, knows Nicky has wanted his mouth on Joe’s cock from the start. He leans forward, eager, but Joe stops him with a hand in his hair, tugging his head back to meet his eyes again.

“Make it good,” he warns, though he doesn’t need to say it. Anything Nicky gives him will inevitably be _good,_ but Nicky likes to hear the challenge, the demand in his voice. Nicky nods again, and Joe guides his head forward to take him in his mouth.

Nicky has always been talented with his mouth, and after nine hundred years his gag reflex is nonexistent. He takes Joe deep, swallowing around him, and Joe has to hold back a shout, fingers tightening in Nicky’s hair until Nicky groans around him, which only makes it better. Nicky shifts, bucking his hips ever so slightly, chasing sensation as his own cock hardens fully, and pulls back, circling his tongue sinfully and sucking on the head before diving back in and taking Joe to the root. Seeing Nicky like this, desperate and panting and on his knees, so beautifully trusting, pushes Joe over the edge in an embarrassingly short amount of time. Nicky swallows around him, staring up at him with awe, and licks his lips when Joe pulls him away. He bends down and kisses him deep, tasting himself in Nicky’s mouth.

Joe tugs Nicky’s hair again roughly before reaching his foot forward and resting it ever so lightly on Nicky’s crotch. He whimpers at the touch and Joe tilts his head back to meet his eyes.

“I’ve already given you three,” he says. “You can take this one for yourself, but you’d better get there in less than a minute or I will blindfold you and leave you alone until you cool off.”

Nicky shudders and thrusts up into Joe’s foot, but he withdraws it, giving Nicky’s hair another tug. “Ah, ah—did I give you permission yet?”

Nicky’s eyes are watering, either from the pain of Joe pulling his hair or from his desperation to come. He shakes his head. 

“I shouldn’t let you,” he says, tracing a finger over Nicky’s shiny lips. “You’re being so greedy.”

Nicky bites his lip and lets his head fall forward to rest again on Joe’s thigh again, a position of supplication. He’s begging without words, and Joe takes pity. After all, he wants Nicky pliant and relaxed, not hanging over the edge of his own arousal.

“Alright,” he says, and extends his foot again. “Your minute starts now. Come, Nicky.”

Nicky gasps and ruts up against him, grinding furiously. He has limited movement, with Joe’s hand tight in his hair and his upper body still strictly bound, and he closes his eyes, face screwed up in concentration, mouth open and panting. Joe dips two fingers into his mouth and Nicky closes around them instantly, sucking and licking, saliva spilling out to wet his chin. He looks unbelievable, he looks unspeakable, depraved and angelic all at once. For the millionth time, Joe wonders at the fact that he is his, forever. That he has had this for nine hundred years and will have it for nine hundred more and beyond.

Nicky shudders and lets out a low cry. His minute is up, but he is so close Joe takes pity and does not pull away. Instead, he shoves a third finger into his mouth and growls, “Come, Nico. Come for me.”

Nicky chokes on the fingers, groans, grinds hard into Joe’s foot, and comes, a pathetic little spurt that looks more painful than satisfying—but then again, it is his fourth time, and Joe is a little impressed he managed it at all. He’s shaking with aftershocks as Joe pulls his foot away and extracts his fingers, swaying like he might collapse. Joe guides him by the nape of his neck to rest against his legs and Nicky slumps there, boneless, eyes closed and panting.

“Good, Nico,” Joe says. “You were very good for me.” He gives Nicky a long moment to catch his breath, and then pulls away once it seems he can hold himself up again.

“I’ll be back,” he promises. “Keep your eyes closed.”

He rushes to the bathroom and grabs some washcloths, wetting them and grabbing the bar of lightly scented soap Nicky bought at the farmer’s market earlier in the week. He returns to the bedroom to see Nicky as he left him, kneeling still, eyes closed with an expression of pure bliss on his face. He doesn’t seem to register the sound of his footsteps when he reenters the room and barely reacts to Joe’s hand cupping his face, just nuzzling into it with a small smile.

“Nico, you can talk now. I need you to tell me how you feel.”

It takes him a moment, but eventually he manages a hoarse “Good.” 

Joe laughs a little and lifts one of the washcloths to wipe at the sweat, spit and spend on his face. “Good. You did so well for me.”

Nicky cracks his eyes open. “Are we finished?”

He’d considered pushing the scene farther, but Nicky seems well and truly exhausted now. He knows he would have safeworded if he was overwhelmed, but Joe is satisfied, too, and now all he wants to do is take care of Nicky, wash him, loosen the ropes, and curl up with him in bed.

“I think so,” he says softly, rubbing his fingers over the shell of his ear. “If you’re good with that.”

“Mmm,” Nicky mumbles, and closes his eyes again, head heavy in Joe’s hands. Joe laughs again and runs the cloth down the back of Nicky’s neck. Nicky groans at the feeling and lists forward.

“Alright,” Joe says. “Come on, lay down. Here.” He pulls a pillow from the bed and guides Nicky to lie on his stomach, head cushioned. “Let me get the ropes off of you.”

Nicky opens his eyes and shakes his head. “Wait, no—leave them a little longer? They feel so good.” His eyes are large and glassy, the pupils still blown. Joe knows the feeling—the floating, post-orgasmic bliss that comes from play like this. When it happens to him, he likes to be untied and wrapped up in Nicky’s arms almost as soon as he comes. Nicky is different, always has been. He likes to push himself, lose his body and mind to whatever sensations drove him to bliss as he comes down from it. Sometimes it’s worrying, how far away Nicky can go, how out of it he seems. But Joe also trusts him, trusts him more than anyone else, trusts him to say what he wants and needs.

He lifts his hands away from the ropes. “You will tell me if it starts to hurt.”

Nicky offers him a quirk of a smile. “You know it doesn’t matter.”

“You will tell me,” Joe says firmly. “If you push me on this I’ll untie you right now.”

Nicky’s eyes flutter shut again. “Yes, Joe,” he whispers. 

Joe checks the ropes just to be sure, sliding two fingers under the loops and hitches covering Nicky’s skin. When he’s satisfied he picks up the washcloth again and swipes it down Nicky’s lower back and up his legs, cleans his feet carefully, toe by toe, massaging the arch and heel until he groans with satisfaction, boneless and loose in the cradle of the ropes. He nudges Nicky’s legs apart and kneels between them. He lathers some soap on a fresh washcloth and washes away the sweat and splatters of come over his ass and thighs, rinsing away the soap when he’s satisfied. Then Joe kneads into his ass, enjoying its fullness under his hands, relishing the sounds Nicky makes when he sweeps his hands up and digs his thumbs into the small of his back. He keeps massaging until he thinks Nicky might have fallen asleep, then spreads his cheeks apart and thumbs at his hole where his own come is drying. Nicky starts at the touch and moans.

“Oh?” Joe says, teasing. “Did you forget about my come dripping out of you?”

Nicky’s hips shift a bit, though he’s too exhausted and boneless to even rub against the floor. “Oh _God_ _—_ no, Joe—”

He swipes over his hole with the washcloth, rubbing away the dried spend and Nicky shudders. “Joe, please.”

“Please what, darling?”

“Please don’t clean it.”

“And why not?”

Nicky groans into the pillow. “Yusuf—”

Joe reaches for the lube, abandoned on the floor a few feet away, and slicks up a finger before dipping it into Nicky. “Oh, did you want to keep my come in you? Did you want to wake up in the morning and immediately remember how good I gave it to you?” Joe’s own tired cock twitches at the sight of the come leaking out around his finger. Shit, he’s dirty talking _himself_. 

Nicky rolls his head against the pillow. “ _Yes_ ,” he whispers.

“Yes what?”

“Yes _please_ , Yusuf!”

“Alright,” he says, and pats Nicky’s ass. “One moment.” He stands and pulls a plug from the bedside table, slicking it up and teasing his rim for just a moment before sliding it in. Nicky groans as it fills him but barely twitches at the intrusion, which is good. This isn’t meant to arouse him, not now—though it might be a different story in the morning, if Joe manages to catch him by surprise with the vibrating function.

“What do you say?” he asks as he swipes a washcloth over his crack one last time. Nicky moans and turns his head on the pillow, mouth hanging open. “Thank you, Joe.”

Joe gives the plug one last tap and then leans up to kiss him, just a light brush of the lips. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.” Nicky barely responds to the kiss and Joe takes a moment to look at him, to burn the sight into his memory, before he leans over to grab the shears.

“I’m going to untie you now if that’s okay with you.”

Nicky mumbles an affirmative and turns his head back into the pillow. Joe unties him gently, starting with his hands and arms, freeing them from the harness and guiding them to lay at his sides, rubbing his shoulders to help with the strain. He takes the shears to the rest of the harness, preferring to get it off quickly and without forcing Nicky to move too much, and pulls the ropes away from him. For a brief, brilliant moment Nicky’s pale skin reflects the indents from the ropes, and then they fade, the skin as smooth and flawless as ever. He runs a damp cloth over the broad expanse of his back and then replaces it with his hands, working up his spine and digging into the tense, tired muscles of his shoulders. Nicky sighs and hums under him, barely awake.

“Turn over, love,” he says eventually, and Nicky just groans, burying his face deeper in the pillow. Joe pushes at his shoulder. “Come on,” he says. “I’m not letting you sleep with come drying all over you.”

Nicky groans again, but lets Joe maneuver him so he’s lying on his back, arms sprawled and eyes still closed. Joe cleans gently around his soft dick and groin, and then moves on to the rest of his torso, washing him with the soap, trailing his fingers over his belly and ribs and the pale column of his neck. Nicky breathes deep, eyes closed, breath hitching slightly when Joe swipes the cool washcloth over his nipples or scrubs at a particularly stubborn streak of dried come. Eventually he sets the clothes aside and just runs his hands over Nicky, up and down, fingers trailing over his soft skin, too light to really be called a massage. Nicky sighs under him and flops an arm over his eyes. Joe touches every part of him, every inch of skin, feeling the blood beat under his fingers. When he at last trails a hand to cup Nicky’s cheek Nicky just nuzzles into him and sighs.

He leans close. “Bed?” he whispers in his ear, and Nicky turns his head a bit more to press a light kiss in the center of his palm. 

Joe can’t actually bear Nicky’s full weight for long, so it’s lucky they’re right next to the bed. He gathers Nicky in his arms and Nicky hums, hands scrabbling uselessly at the floor and Joe’s chest in an effort to help before he lets himself go boneless again, head tucked under Joe’s chin. He deposits him on the bed with slightly less grace than he’d been intending, but then again, Joe’s tired too. Nicky bounces a bit and his eyes flutter open briefly as he laughs.

“Yeah, yeah,” Joe says, working the sheets out from under him. “Sorry.” Nicky just hums and closes his eyes again, nestling into the pillows.

He allows himself one long moment of looking—Nicky, peaceful and sprawled out over the bed, hair damp and skin soft and lips still a little red and shiny from kissing. He runs his fingers through his hair and drops a kiss on his head before drawing away. He putters around the room to pick up the discarded washcloths and soap, setting the water bottle on the bedside table, storing the lube back away in the drawer and sweeping the discarded ropes under the bed to be sorted and coiled up in the morning. In the bed, Nicky mumbles something incoherent and stretches out an arm, searching blindly.

Joe steps back over to him and clasps his hand, looking down at him. His eyes are open a sliver and much more focused now. Joe brushes his hair off his forehead. “What?”

Nicky cuts his eyes down to Joe’s own sweaty chest and the come smeared on his skin from where he pressed up against Nicky. “What about you?”

He laughs, holding up the clothes and soap. “I’m just going to wash off in the bathroom quick, put this stuff away. I’ll be right back.”

Nicky rolls his eyes and holds out a hand. It takes him a moment to realize what he’s asking for. “Nico, you don’t need—”

Nicky just wiggles his fingers. Joe sighs, hands him a washcloth, and sits on the edge of the bed. 

Slowly, softly, Nicky runs the washcloth over Joe’s chest, not missing a spot. He draws it over the hollow of his collarbone, down the dip between his pecs and over his belly. He rubs away a streak of dried come on his ribs and gently, so gently, wipes his soft cock. The fingers of his other hand run over Joe’s skin after the swipe of the washcloth, tracing his body in a mirror of the way Joe touched him. Like he doesn’t already have every curve and freckle memorized. Joe finds his lids drooping, his body relaxing under Nicky’s careful ministrations. His gaze is caught on the careful way Nicky is looking at him, clear-eyed and peaceful, on the strength of his big hands as he runs them over his body, on the way his tongue peeks out ever so slightly between his lips as he concentrates.

An indeterminable amount of time goes by and Joe might have fallen asleep if he wasn’t still sitting upright. Eventually, Nicky drops the washcloth on the floor and pulls him down, unresisting, to drop a kiss right below each eye. “There,” he says softly. “Now you don’t have to go to the bathroom, you can stay with me. Let’s go to sleep.”

He’s so tired he couldn’t argue, even if he wanted to. He pushes Nicky to shuffle over slightly and slides under the covers, curling around him and burying his nose in the nape of his neck. Nicky sighs contentedly and lifts a hand to curl their fingers together over his heart.

They breathe in tandem for a moment, the sound of the surf in the distance and the chirping of night insects bleeding in through the cracked window. Joe counts the beats of Nicky’s heart under his hands and, after a moment, realizes he’s dripping tears onto the back of his neck. He pulls away slightly, unsure exactly why. Nicky stirs at the feeling and mumbles, “Yusuf?”, clearly already halfway to slumber.

It is late July. The heavy heat of Malta reminds him so viscerally of the heat of the battlefield outside of Jerusalem, of the heat of the day where he first laid eyes on this man, of the heaviness of the night when he woke from death for the first time and found Nicky gasping next to him. 

Nine hundred years. 

Nicky shifts, turning slightly to look at him. “Yusuf?” he says again. The dim light of the moon glints off the whites of his eyes. “What is it?”

He shakes his head, disentangles their hands to wipe the moisture from his eyes, and laughs wetly. “Nothing. I just—happy anniversary.”

Nicky stares at him for a moment, then smiles, one of his barely-there quirks of the lips. He picks up Joe’s hand and kisses the salt of his tears away, then entwines their fingers again. Their hands have always fit so well together.

“Happy anniversary,” he whispers back, and then settles back against Joe to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](https://prevalent-masters.tumblr.com/)!


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